


Socks

by mistyautumn



Series: Socks [1]
Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyautumn/pseuds/mistyautumn
Summary: Alak is finding that grief is tricky. Irisa understands.
Relationships: Alak Tarr & Irisa Nyira, Christie McCawley/Alak Tarr
Series: Socks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849738
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Socks

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written for Defiance and don’t know if I could do it again, but this came to me and I had to get it down. Grief is indeed a tricky thing.

“You wanna hear something stupid?” Alak casts a sidelong glance at Irisa; she’s sitting on the back porch by Luke, who’s sleeping in his carrier. He’s folding up the clothes he’d hung on a line to dry. The sun is shining and the day is beautiful and warm.

“How stupid are we talking?” Irisa smirks, cocking her head to one side.

“I didn’t know how to ball up socks. Christie had to show me.” He smiles in a self-deprecating way and looks over his shoulder to see Irisa’s utterly incredulous look.

“You didn’t know _how_ \- _what_?! They’re just socks! You ball ‘em up!”

Alak laughs and nods. “Yeah, well, it never exactly came up in my life. I didn’t do laundry.”

“How times change.”

“Yeah… she told me to ball up the socks and I just stared at her, and the look on her face…” His smile grew rueful. “So she showed me, and it was… obvious.”

“And now you do laundry.”

“Not a direct leap, but I have arrived. Christie would be proud, huh?” He’s smiling, taking down a blanket of Luke’s, but the smile falters, fades. He stares at the soft, grey blanket, and suddenly his eyes are full of tears that he can’t seem to blink away.

“Alak?” Irisa leans forward, then gets up. “Hey…”

“Sorry,” He sniffs, brushes tears away. “Sorry.” He takes a breath and Irisa hugs him.

“I get it…” She murmurs. 

“I know.” He breathes. 

Irisa is all too familiar with grief.

Grief is tricky, Alak is finding. It lets you go a little while; walk free on a sunny day. Then it sneaks up, snaring you again; leaves you reeling and guilty, wondering how you could have possibly forgotten; and at the same time wondering how it still catches you, falling behind as the world moves on– dragged down into the hole in your heart that no one else can feel. 

He’s thought about leaving this house; going somewhere else with Luke, but Christie is everywhere here. It’s a blessing and a curse. It’s all he can give Luke of his mother. 

He bites his lower lip and tries to smile. “Stupid…” He says quietly. “It’s a stupid story…”

“I liked it.” Irisa’s gaze is understanding. She smiles and it’s consoling. “She’d be proud of you. You’re taking care of Luke, you’re finally living your own life, you can do your own laundry…” She nudges him and he smiles in spite of the grief. It’s something.

“I think I owe it all to her.” He takes down a sock, then its match, balling them like Christie showed him. Maybe the house isn’t all he can give Luke. Christie lingers; in flowers, in songs, in socks… she’s there when Luke smiles. She still makes Alak smile.

Christie isn’t here; she is everywhere, and though the precious time they had will never feel like enough, he is grateful for it. He closes his eyes, and the sun’s warmth is hers, and he is grateful.


End file.
